Lumione Drabbles
by aviddaydreamer
Summary: A series of drabbles and ficlets in continuation of "In Disguise" and "In the Open." Appropriate warnings given with each chapter. LM/HG, eventual HP/DM.
1. Line in the Sand

Lumione Drabbles

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or his universe.

**A/N: A series of drabbles set in my In Disguise/Open verse, because I just can't stop writing it. Appropriate warnings given with each chapter.**

**In case you hadn't noticed, I am totally in love with the friendship between Harry & Hermione. Expect mushiness. Also, I'm not sure how long I can magically work my way around writing a scene with Ron in it, but so far so good. It's not that I don't love Ron, I just don't love writing him. Or something.**

Line in the Sand

Hermione walked the familiar path from the Weasley kitchen, through the back garden to the orchard, not pausing until the leaves from overhanging apple trees had blotted out the night sky. Pressing her back to a narrow trunk, she slid to the ground, burying her face in her arms and letting go of all the tears she'd had to hold at bay moments prior.

She didn't look up at the sound of soft footsteps through the grass, but soon found herself wrapped in a gentle embrace, Harry's familiar scent calming her senses.

"It's just shock, they'll come around."

Hermione shook her head against his chest, but said nothing.

"And you're moving in with him? When?"

"As soon as I want. I thought I might want to spend a few days here, but that doesn't seem like such a good idea, now."

Harry nodded. "There's always Grimmauld Place. I don't want you to ever think you've nowhere else to go, especially with your parents deciding to stay in Melbourne."

"Harry…" She looked up at him, at his sad green eyes and small, sympathetic smile. "How are you being so supportive of this? Everyone else—"

"Hermione, do you remember during fourth year when practically no one was speaking to me, even Ron?" She nodded, a bit puzzled. "I had one friend, just one, who cared enough to come see me before the first task, while I was scared out of my wits. Remember who that was?"

She smiled a bit at the memory, wiping away the last of her tears with her sleeve.

"We've been through a lot together, and you've always stood by me. Even when you didn't agree with me—even when you were right and I was wrong, even when it almost got you killed, you stood by me. I might not have appreciated that when I was 14, but I know better now, don't I? You're my friend, and if you need me, I'm going to try and be there. Even if it means putting up with Lucius sodding Malfoy."

"Thank you, Harry." She whispered, leaning into his embrace.

"Just promise me that if things get bad, if you're ever scared or unhappy, you'll come to me. I'll always have room for you."

"I promise."


	2. Unexpected Favorites

Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit.

Unexpected Favorites

"This really isn't necessary, Lucius. You have a perfectly fine living room set already, you shouldn't have to change everything just because I've moved in."

Lucius critically eyed a grouping of modern looking sofas and armchairs before taking Hermione's arm and towing her to the next set. "Oh do stop being difficult and just sit here a moment." He gently pushed her into a low armchair, tilted his head to the side before shaking it slightly, and then pulling her up and moving on again.

Hermione followed meekly along, allowing herself to be placed on displays for three more sets with a bewildered expression. "Okay, just what on earth are you doing?"

Lucius guided her onto a deep, cushioned sofa, studied her a moment and then snatched a throw pillow off a nearby stand and thrust it at her. He nodded decisively and then caught the eye of a nearby salesperson.

"Excuse me, I want to see your available fabric samples."

The young girl smiled shyly up at him, stuttering "Yes of course, sir, just a moment." And then disappeared.

Lucius sat himself next to a bemused Hermione, pressing and leaning against the cushioned sofa with a focused expression. The sales girl quickly returned with a heavy book of fabric samples, which Lucius opened on his lap and immediately began sorting through.

"Lucius?"

"Hm?" He looked up from the book to find Hermione watching him curiously. He huffed once, rolling his eyes before returning his attention to the samples. "You looked terribly out of place on that old living set; I simply wanted to find something a bit more _you_, as it were."

"Oh." Hermione looked around at the display of wide, plush furniture. Each piece sported elegant curves and deep cushions, perfect for long afternoons spent lounging with a good book. She studied Lucius as he sorted through the different colors and textures, eyes occasionally darting to her face or hair as though looking for complimentary colors. He stopped at an earthy green suede with a decisive nod.

Hermione rested her head against his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the buttery-soft fabric. "Why this one?"

"Brings out the flecks of green in your eyes."

She sighed, curling her arm around his. "You're such a girl sometimes."

"I bed your pardon?" He asked, sounding slightly affronted.

"And you have it, as always." She smiled, placing a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "It's lovely, thank you."

"Yes, well. Behave yourself and I just might let you choose the bedding."

Hermione pasted on a look of mock surprise. "What, you mean we're not keeping the black satin? And it was so wonderfully clichéd, too."

Lucius sniffed disdainfully, drawing himself up and leading Hermione in the direction of the bedroom sets. "Sometimes I don't know why I put up with your cheek, little girl."

"Hmm, I do believe it has something to do with the mind-blowing sex, you great letch."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, mouth turned up in a teasing smirk. "Mind-blowing, did you say?"

"Oh shut it, you. Just for that we're getting Hello Kitty sheets in the most lurid shade of pink I can find."

He smirked evilly at her, leaning in to whisper "Kinky" in her ear just as another sales person approached to offer assistance. Said salesperson shot her a quizzical look as she broke down into a veritable fit of the giggles. Lucius watched on with a level expression, just a hint of amusement shining in his flint grey eyes.

Shopping with Lucius was quickly topping her list of unexpected-yet-favorite things.


	3. First Fights and Compromises

**Warnings: None. **

**A/N: Eventually, one of these will actually merit a warning or two, I promise. I have about half a dozen written so far, but I'm trying to post them in chronological order, so yeah. Thanks for reading!**

First Fights and Compromises

Harry opened the front door to find Lucius Malfoy standing imperiously on the front stoop at Number 12, looking entirely haughty and collected, but for the dark circles under his eyes, the shadow of stubble at his chin.

"Mr. Potter." He inclined his head once in greeting, eyes tired but expectant.

"Er…I don't think she wants to see you right now, Mr. Malfoy."

The man sighed, clearly expecting such a greeting. "Tell her I've been considering her arguments and believe I've reached a suitable compromise."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione's voice called down from the stairwell behind him, cutting him off. He backed up against the wall, clearing the space between the two.

"There's nothing to compromise on, Lucius! I've told you where I stand and that's that." She appeared halfway down the stairs, arms crossed tightly over her chest, expression stormy.

Lucius quirked a brow and then stepped to the side, ushering forward a small, seemingly female house elf. Hermione's mouth dropped when she spotted the green tunic covering her small body.

"Tunie has agreed to being voluntarily employed at our townhouse, with Tuesdays and Thursdays off for personal time. She has been directed to avoid physical punishment, whether self-inflicted or otherwise, will receive a weekly salary, and is free to leave if ever she so chooses."

The house elf Tunie gave a low bow, her large ears flopping forward, huge blue eyes shining. "Tunie is honored to serve the Master and Missus!"

Hermione looked to be working very hard to maintain a stern expression as she came down the stairs and crouched low, offering her hand to the excited elf. "Alright then, Tunie, it's a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Hermione."

Tunie shook her hand and squeaked her acceptance. Lucius was looking on with a small, fond sort of smile as Hermione stood back up.

"Hermione." He waited until she was meeting his eyes, and then took a step forward, extending his hand in invitation. "Come home."

She couldn't help the relieved smile that lit up her face as she slipped her hand into his. She turned to find Harry watching them with an amused smirk. "I'll come back for my things later, alright?"

He nodded. "Fine."

She followed Lucius to the door, but paused, turning to give Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime," he responded, sending a casual salute to Lucius, who actually smiled in return, before leading Hermione out and closing the door behind them.


	4. Walk ins Not Welcome

**Warnings: Non-graphic sexual content (HG/LM), also, a healthy dose of pre-slash (HP/DM). **

Walk-ins Not Welcome

Or A Trip to the Cinema (and a Free Show)

Harry apparated into a darkened alleyway in the heart of Chelsea, home to some of London's most posh residences, clutching a white pastry bag full of Hermione's favorite treats. He looked around, making sure his entrance went unnoticed, and then started forward only to run smack into a tall, robed figure who'd just appeared in the alley ahead of him.

They both went down in a tangle of limbs and muffled curses. Harry finally extricated himself to find Draco Malfoy glaring up at him, dark robes wrinkled, pale blond locks mussed. Harry quickly pulled himself to his feet, offering a hand to Draco. He ignored the offer with a scowl, choosing to stumble to his feet unaided.

"Watch it, Potter. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Harry rolled his eyes and started forward again, leaving Draco behind with a reply tossed over his shoulder. "Taking Hermione to see a film." He bit back a grin as Draco sped his gait, trying to get ahead of him on their way up the front steps to Lucius' townhouse. The blond just dashed in front of him at the door with a triumphant smirk and proceeded to let himself inside.

"Don't you think we should announce ourselves?" Harry asked.

Draco just scoffed. "_You_ might, but I think I'm welcome in my own father's house. You'll notice I didn't have any trouble with the wards."

"Well, yeah, but…" Harry trailed off as he cautiously headed into the kitchen in search of Hermione. He pushed his way through the half-open door and then stumbled back, limbs flailing with a hoarse "Oh god!"

"What?" Draco pushed him aside, ignoring Harry's restraining arm.

"Draco, you don't want to—"

"_My eyes_!"

"—go in there." Harry finished, catching the blond boy where he stumbled back into him, arms flailing and eyes clamped tightly shut.

Inside the kitchen, Hermione sat atop an enormous mahogany table, clad only in a lacy black bra, stretched back, propped up on her elbows with her thighs hooked over Lucius' shoulders. She'd just lifted her head in time to catch the horrified look on Draco's face as he entered the kitchen.

"Oh my god, Draco!"

Lucius pulled back, his face a mask of indignation. "_Excuse me_?"

"No, Lucius, _Draco_!" She pointed to the now-empty doorway, her eyes wide with mortification.

Lucius looked from the doorway then back to Hermione, realizing what must have happened. His expression relaxed, his firm grip on her hips not allowing for much movement. "Ah, I see. We're a bit busy now, son. Come back in an hour…" He studied Hermione's flushed cheeks, her heaving breasts, "…make that two."

But Harry was already steering Draco back out the front door, closing it swiftly behind them. Lucius smirked at the sound of their retreat and fixed Hermione with an imperturbable grin. "Now, where were we?"

"You're unbelievable!" She started to roll her eyes, but cut off with a gasp as his answering chuckle sent delicious vibrations through her overheated body.

Out on the landing, Draco leaned heavily against the closed door, clutching his face and whimpering "I'm blind, _I'm blind_!" over and over. Harry bit back the urge to laugh, clapping a supportive hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Open your eyes, mate."

Draco did, slowly lowering his hands and looking about him cautiously. "I think I'm going to be ill."

Harry did laugh then, taking hold of Draco's sleeve and towing him back to the alley. "Come along, then."

"Where are we going?"

"You look like you could use a drink. I'm buying."

Harry thought it a true testament to the level of Draco's trauma that he did not argue, instead leaning into Harry as he apparated them away.

Two hours, four butterbeers, and a half-dozen shots of firewhiskey later, Draco was once again leaning against Harry, though this was more of an effort toward staying atop his barstool than anything else.

"It's not that I'm not _happy_ for him…" He slurred, gesturing with his half-full glass.

"Are you?" Harry asked, trying not to stare at the tiny flecks of pale blue amidst the grey of Draco's eyes, visible only because the boy was so ridiculously close at the moment.

"I guess so, yeah. He's _different_ with her. He actually laughed the other day, _laughed_! And it wasn't even the least bit menacing."

Harry snorted into his mug of butter beer. "Yeah, I know what you mean. She's more laid back than I've ever seen her."

"Well, that's what comes of shagging six times a day…oh _god_." He dropped his head onto Harry's shoulder, shaking it slowly. "So gross. _So gross_."

"Alright, enough moping." Harry hopped down off his stool, tugging Draco down as well with a steadying arm. He nodded his head to the barmaid, a sign to add the bill to his current tab, and tossed a few galleons in the tip jar.

Draco looked over at him with a dejected, lost-puppy sort of expression that Harry would never in a million years have pictured on him. "Where are you going?"

"_We_ are going to see a film. Help take your mind off your recent trauma."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "A film? Like a _muggle _film?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but took Draco's arm anyway, tugging him along out the door. "No, Draco, we're going to see a wizarding film. Except, oh wait, _wizards don't make films. _Just trust me, I think you'll like it."

They made their way to the nearest cinema, where Harry stood outside while Draco examined the movie posters closely. "What's this one about?"

Harry studied the poster in question. "'The Borrowers?' I'm not sure. Um, little people, I guess?"

"Hm, well anyway, look at that little kid—is that not the cutest little kid you've ever seen? I just want to pinch his ickle cheeks right off." Draco poked at the plexiglass over the poster while Harry watched on, too stunned to laugh at this new, sauced version of his old classmate.

Harry wanted to see "Sphere," a creepy looking science fiction film, while Draco continued to obsess over the adorable little boy in "the Borrowers," so in the end they compromised and saw "the Wedding Singer" instead. ("Look, Potter, look at this bloke's hair! Do all muggles look this ridiculous?") Although, to be honest, Harry spent much more time watching _Draco _watch the film, all wide eyes and great, booming laughs. He even thought he caught a stray tear or two while Adam Sandler serenaded Drew Barrymore on that plane ("What the bugger is a plane?" "Don't worry about it, just watch the movie and eat your popcorn."), but Draco brushed it away before Harry could be sure.

After the movie was over, they filed out of the cinema with Draco still digging popcorn from the bottom of the bag, but seeming quite a bit clearer in the head. "That was…" he trailed off, seeming to search for the right word. "Brilliant. Thanks, Potter."

Harry grinned, scuffing his feet along the pavement as they headed for a nearby alley. "Anytime. I mean it, I'm always up for a film, if you ever feel like going again."

Draco smiled a little shyly, turning to lean against the dark brick lining the alleyway. "Say, where's Weaselby? This sort of thing seems to fit his job description as best mate and bumbling sidekick."

Harry rolled his eyes, but not without a measure of fondness. "Well, I was supposed to be seeing Hermione today, and they're not exactly talking to each other at the moment."

"Because she's living with my father?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Draco nodded thoughtfully, grey eyes downcast. "I always thought they'd get married, Weaselby and Granger, and have thousands of little ginger babies with huge teeth and short tempers."

Harry laughed a little at that image. "A lot of us thought that, Hermione too, at one point. She was pretty well heartbroken over the git when she left for winter holiday sixth year, but she came back and was just over it. Which makes sense, now." Harry watched Draco for a moment, but the blond kept his eyes cast to the dirty ground. "I thought it was you, you know. That she…you know, fell for."

Draco looked up then, nose wrinkled thoughtfully. "I guess I can understand what he sees in her. Having seen more of her than I ever wanted to today, I can honestly say that she's been hiding a hell of a body beneath those school robes…but it's just not for me, I guess."

"Yeah, well aren't you expected to find yourself a nice, blonde, pureblood girl and make short-tempered babies of your own?"

"Thankfully, no. A couple years ago, that's exactly what I would have been expected to do, but things are different now. What with the war and our family's change in allegiance, I'm not really held to the same standards I would have been. None of us are. It's why my parents finally divorced, why father moved in with Granger. We've been liberated." He smiled a little then, and it was an easy, carefree sort of smile that took some of the sharpness from his face.

Harry felt his throat go dry at the sight of such a smile. "Glad to hear it." He shuffled his feet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, thinking he should go, but then Draco was talking again, an eagerness to his voice like he didn't want Harry to leave.

"And you? I can't help but notice the absence of a certain Weaslette hanging off your arm today."

Harry grimaced. "Ginny wasn't too terribly thrilled about Hermione's new living arrangements either. She still holds a bit of a grudge after that whole Chamber of Secrets ordeal, see. _And_, she wasn't too happy with _me_ for not telling her about Hermione and Lucius when I first learnt of it. We haven't really spoken in a while."

"Well, I'd say I was sorry—"

"But you're not."

"Nope." Draco smiled.

"Arse." Harry muttered, fighting back a grin.

Draco shrugged his shoulders in a _what are you gonna do_ sort of way, but suddenly seemed to have trouble looking Harry in the eye. "So." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "No ginger babies in your immediate future then?"

"I guess not."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, well, it'd be a shame not to pass on that ridiculous hair of yours. And the freckles, my god Potter, think of the freckles! You've just spared your children from a lifetime of hideous."

Harry barked out a laugh, shaking his head incredulously. "Good Godric…and to think, I'd actually managed to forget what an insufferable prat you are."

Draco smiled and scuffed his foot against the ground. "Well, if you ever need a reminder, you know where to find me."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, you know I probably should have regular reminders. How about Thursdays?"

Draco did look up at that, his expression puzzled, but oddly hopeful. "Thursdays?"

"Yeah. Drinks and a movie, every Thursday. What do you think?"

Draco's answering smile was brilliant, all wide and bright and wholly unguarded. "Yeah, sure."

Harry smiled back, feeling inexplicably thrilled, and just the least bit mischievous. "Great. I'll see you tomorrow then, quarter to seven. Let's meet up in this alley then, shall we?" He could see the wheels turning as Draco worked out what he'd said, but didn't give him time to respond before tossing him a quick wave, calling "Later, Malfoy" and disapparating with a crack.

Draco was left staring at an empty brick wall, feeling he'd been tricked somehow, yet unable to find it in himself to care. He took the long way home, stopping to stroll through a large park, smiling broadly at random muggles and humming 80s pop music under his breath.

**A/N: I want you all to take a moment to appreciate the fact that I actually bothered to look up the moves that would have been playing during this time frame, only to have a total fangirl giggle attack once I realized that Tom Felton's movie, "The Borrowers," was indeed out. It made me weirdly happy. :D I know there's a chance the London theaters would have been showing something different, but I actually saw a movie while in London back in May, and they were mostly the same things showing in America. We saw Iron Man 2, of all things. Anyway…**

**Thanks for reading, if anyone has any specific requests, scenes they'd like to see play out in this storyline, let me know in a review, and I'll see if I can make it happen. **


	5. More than Words

**Warning: Fluff. That's pretty much it for this one. ;)**

More than Words

"Lucius, do you love me?"

Lucius looked up from his paper, eyes falling to the girl stretched out by his side on the wide bed. "Why must you continuously ask questions you already know the answer to?"

"Well…you know typically, in a relationship, when two people love each other they _say_ it." Hermione's voice and expression remained casual, easy, but he could just sense a tension behind it, just a quiver of true apprehension in her wide, brown eyes.

"I've said many things in my life, some that I truly meant, but quite a lot that I did not. Words alone are meaningless. I prefer to _show_ you, everyday, with every choice, how I feel about you. If I'm any sort of man at all, you should _know_ it, you should feel it in your bones."

Hermione bit her lip on a smile, straining to maintain her casual air. "Do you feel it? How much I love you?"

"Everyday."

Hermione propped herself up, hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, thumb gently wiping away a bit of moisture from her eye, and then kissed her forehead affectionately. She lay back down, curling in on her side with her nose tucked into his hip.

Just as Hermione was drifting off to sleep, Lucius leaned in until his lips brushed over the shell of her ear. "Of course I love you, you daft woman."


	6. Fantasy

Disclaimer: Still, tragically, not mine.

**Warning: Sex. Kinda kinky sex, too. Nothing too detailed, though. **

Fantasy

Hermione paused in her sorting through of her old school trunk, eyes thoughtful as she lifted a pleated uniform skirt from the jumbled mess within.

"Lucius?"

"Yes?" He drawled from his position behind his great mahogany desk. They'd taken to spending their afternoons in his office, Hermione reading or writing letters or what-have-you while Lucius looked over paperwork for the latest business proposal from the executives heading Malfoy Enterprises.

Pulling a scarlet and gold tie out of the trunk and winding it about her hand, she addressed him in a deceptively casual tone. "Do you have any sexual fantasies?"

Grey eyes snapped up, closely studying her averted eyes. "You mean beside the one where I steal the innocence of the most virtuous Hermione Granger atop a kitchen table in the middle of Order Headquarters?"

She bit her lip down on a smile, but was unable to stop the light blush from coloring her cheeks. Still, she responded in that same light, airy tone as she toyed with her school tie. "Yes, apart from that one."

"Oh one or two, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

She did look at him then, wearing that playfully devious smile she always adopted when asking him for some little indulgence or another. Lucius carefully put his papers away, and steepled his hands over his desk, waiting patiently for her request and suddenly quite glad he'd cleared his afternoon appointments.

_Two hours later…_

Lucius's fist tightened around the bunched material of Hermione's school skirt, gathered into a wad at the small of her back, his other hand straining not to grip too tightly her rounded hip as he drove into her again and again. She lay sprawled across his desk gripping the edge tightly with white-knuckled hands. A particularly rough thrust had her crying out as a leaf of parchment drifted to the floor, the words "I am a naughty girl" written dozens of times in Hermione's hand, first neatly and then increasingly messy and shaken as it reached the bottom of the paper, evidence of his increased attention paid to her still red and stinging arse cheeks.

Lucius leaned in low over her back, dragging his movements out into a slow, agonizing pace while he spoke hoarsely into her ear. "And what lesson have we learned today, Miss Granger?"

Hermione gasped as the shift in angle hit something deep inside her, sending white-hot electric shocks through her body. "Th-that I'm a naughty g-girl…" she responded in a breathless voice.

"Mmm," he hummed in approval, quickening his pace just so, but holding that same angle. "And what happens to naughty girls in my class, Miss Granger?"

She let out a low moan, but a sharp snap of his hips had her stuttering her answer. "Th-they get pun-ished, Professor."

"Good girl," he nearly snarled into her ear, picking up his pace while the hand on her hip curled around and under, finding the swollen nub of her clitoris and pinching hard.

She jerked and cried out, her body clamping down tightly on him as he emptied himself inside her with a groan. He slumped over her and rasped out "Fifty points to Gryffindor" before pulling her back and into his lap as he slumped in the large armchair behind his desk.

They sat together, Lucius idly toying with her curls while they caught their breath until Hermione interrupted the silence with another airy, forcedly casual comment. "You know, you never did tell me what _your_ fantasies are."

He quirked a brow at her, a devilish grin spreading across his flushed face while Hermione felt her nerves tighten with anticipation.

_One month later…_

"Oh my god."

Hermione and Lucius lay sprawled across the rumpled sheets on their enormous bed, sated and sweaty and tangled up in each other as they panted furiously.

"I trust you found that as satisfying as I did."

"Oh…my…_god_."

Lucius just chuckled darkly as an itchy, bubbly feeling started spreading across his skin. "Oh, looks like it's wearing off…" He turned to watch grey eyes melt into brown, short brown hair grow into long, honey curls, while the long, hard body beside him shrunk down into soft curves. He felt his own body stretching and spreading, while Hermione watched with apparent fascination. A moment later, and they were still spread across the bed, but now seemingly in their own mirror image opposites.

"How much polyjuice did you say was left?"

Hermione's grin was huge, her eyes shining with wonder. "Almost two litres, safely stored away for future use."

Lucius smiled in satisfaction. "Excellent."

Hermione just nodded, her eyes glazing over as she recalled the afternoon's events. "Oh yes. Excellent indeed."


End file.
